


Life and Love

by Graendal



Series: TATSILB [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Babysitter Katsuki Mari, Epilogue, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parents Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Past Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graendal/pseuds/Graendal
Summary: A collection of shorts following what Yuuri and Victor get up to as the years pass. An ongoing epilogue to To All The Skaters I've Loved Before.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: TATSILB [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591963
Comments: 20
Kudos: 67





	1. A New Endeavor

**Author's Note:**

> I may still tackle things like Victor and Chris developing a friendship and Yuuri becoming comfortable with that, or a Victuuri wedding, both of which would happen chronologically before the stuff that gets posted in this work. So I may end up shuffling around the series order; we'll see. 
> 
> Be sure to subscribe or bookmark the TATSILB series as a whole if you want to see those sorts of updates.

Yuuri scrolls through the messages in his inbox as he fumbles to unlock the door to his and Victor’s apartment. There is… a _lot_ of interest in the youth skating classes he and Victor had decided to offer throughout the summer. He manages to get the door open without looking, and nudges it closed behind him with his foot. He drops onto the couch to look over the applications in more detail.

“Yuuri, is that you?” Victor calls from the kitchen. The sound of water running suggests he’s finishing up the dishes — they’d gotten distracted partway through the process of washing.

“Mm,” he says, still scrolling.

Victor’s class, sure — he’d expected that people would be willing to go to great lengths to get their kids into a class with the legendary Victor Nikiforov, five time World Champion and Grand Prix title holder. For his own class he’d figured the interest would primarily come from existing residents of Hasetsu. But there are more than a few applicants with obviously non-Japanese names. 

Is he really worth all this fuss? He’d only won at World’s twice,with Phichit winning three years ago and Yuri winning last year. He _had_ won gold for three consecutive years at the GPF; maybe that's it. but he’s retired now; that number is never going to climb any higher. He'd attended World's a few weeks ago as a _coach,_ not a competitor, for the first time.

He spots a cluster of three applications all under ‘Nishigori’ and he grins, shaking his head. Probably best to avoid having those three together in the same class. They're also already fairly advanced skaters; he'll need to sort out what the distribution of skating experience among the applicants looks like. Some of these seem like they might need a coach more than they need a class.

He and Victor had decided they could each afford one day per week away from coaching to dedicate to skating classes, but even splitting all these kids up into multiple classes throughout one ridiculously long day, the class sizes would be way too big to manage.

“Victor,” he calls. “We have too many kids!”

The running water stops, and Victor peeks his head out around the kitchen doorway, grinning. “We don’t have any kids, love.” Yuuri sticks his tongue out at him. “Yet,” Victor adds, and Yuuri’s heart skips a beat. Victor’s been thinking about what he’d said during their anniversary dinner, apparently.

Four years, and it _still_ sometimes feels too good to be true.

Victor joins him on the couch, slipping one arm around his waist. He leans over, resting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder, and reaches a finger out to scroll back up to the top of the list on Yuuri’s phone.

“That _is_ a lot of kids,” Victor murmurs.

“You're still sure about not just setting it up to be a first come, first served enrollment system?”

“I just don’t think it would be fair. We’d end up with only the kids whose parents happen to be able to drop everything and fill out an application as soon as we start accepting them.”

Yuuri nods. This is a familiar discussion. It would just be so much _easier_ in terms of logistics.

Victor taps a finger to his lips. “What if…?”

Yuuri tilts his head. “What if what?”

“What if we had our skaters — not the juniors, they're too young — but Elizaveta and Yuri, for example, they could each take a group.”

Hm. It's not a bad idea. Having to explain fundamentals to less experienced skaters can sometimes do wonders for one’s own technical understanding.

“By the way, do you have the piece for her short program ready?” Victor asks.

“Mostly, yes. I still need to listen to it with her, see if she wants to change anything.” He shifts back to their original conversation. “We can't expect them to do it for free. And you said you want to charge on a sliding scale for the lessons, so it's not like the money can be expected to come from there.”

He feels Victor shrug. “We're not doing this for profit, anyway. I can offer reductions in coaching fees if they agree to teach.”

Yuuri nods. They'll need to hammer out the details, but it seems feasible. “We need to run this by Yuuko and Takeshi, but I think we’ll be able to work it out.” 

Normally, skating classes would be organized entirely by the arena management, but when it's a world famous skater-turned-coach offering them, it works a little differently.

“Oh, Yuuri, this is exciting!” Victor’s arms squeeze him around his middle.

Victor's contagious enthusiasm has Yuuri smiling despite how much work he has ahead of him.

“Oh, right,” Victor says, as if he just remembering something. “Speaking of classes and enrollment, there's something else I want to get your thoughts on…”


	2. Study Break

Victor rubs at his temples and rests his elbows on the desk. No matter how much time he spends brushing up on the basics, once he’s tired enough, the symbols on the page inevitably start jumping around.

“How’s it going?” Yuuri comes up behind him, placing a mug of tea on the desk and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Ugh.” Victor slides a hand down his face and leans back against Yuuri. “All the other courses are going well enough; most of the material is pretty much in line with the reading I had already done before deciding to do this. But this statistics course is horrible. Sometimes it’s like I’ve forgotten what math even  _ is.” _

“I’ve known a few mathematicians who are adamant that they’d rather forget that the entire field of statistics exists, so you’re in good company.” Yuuri’s thumbs dig into his shoulder muscles and Victor groans. “You’ve got a lot on your plate to begin with, and you’re taking an insane number of courses, so it’s understandable if it feels overwhelming sometimes.”

“I just want to get as much done as possible before we need to begin next season’s training. Ugh, I should ask Chris how he managed to finish his Kinesiology degree so quickly.” Victor reaches for his notebook and flips through the pages. What’s the difference between cross tabulations and two way contingency tables, again?

“But you just need to  _ pass  _ this course, right? You’re not actually planning on doing psychology research.” Yuuri’s hands continue to work wonders on the tension in Victor’s shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much the stress had been affecting him physically.

“Right, but I need to maintain a high enough average to get into that Sports Psych grad program.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, willing away the headache that has been threatening to develop. “If I’m going to claim that I’m uniquely qualified to coach skaters with anxiety, I should be able to back that up. Plus, it will help to be able to understand whether articles with potentially useful information are based on solid research methodology.”

“I’m proud of you,” Yuuri says. “You’re doing so well, especially considering that you haven’t had to do homework in… what? Fifteen years?”

Victor nods, cheeks warming in the glow of Yuuri’s praise. “Something like that.”

“You’re amazing, Victor,” Yuuri says, softly. “I just want to make sure you don’t burn yourself out — this is supposed to be your time off.”

Yuuri’s face drops to the crook of Victor’s neck, and Victor shivers as Yuuri’s teeth lightly pull at his skin. He reaches a hand back to tangle in Yuuri’s hair. It’s getting really long, now.

“Can I convince you to take a break?” Yuuri says, voice low. His lips brush Victor’s ear as his hand slides down Victor’s chest.

Victor laughs. “Why did you bring me a fresh cup of tea if you were planning to tempt me away from my desk? It’s going to get cold.”

“Seduction isn’t always a premeditated act, you know. And there’s this wonderful invention called a microwave.” Only Yuuri could make ‘microwave’ sound like a sexy word.

Yuuri’s hand creeps lower, and then pauses. “If you actually need to concentrate, I’ll stop. I don't want you to have to bring homework along on our anniversary getaway.”

Victor bites his lip. There’s no way he would get any work done on their trip. They’ve been planning it for weeks; they’d both agreed their fifth anniversary should be a special celebration. Yuuri will have all of his attention for the duration, as he should.

But he still has a couple of days to get this done before they leave. He can afford to let himself get a bit distracted.

Victor hums, twirling a finger through Yuuri’s hair. “How about I try to keep working while you try to break my concentration?”

“You’re on,” Yuuri whispers, slipping between the desk and the chair.  _ Oh, god. _

He pushes Victor’s shirt up and trails kisses down towards his navel, meeting Victor’s wide eyes with his own asmolder.

_ Fuck.  _ This is going to be a very short-lived challenge.


	3. Dreams Come True

“Victor, you're going away for  _ four days,”  _ Mari says with an exasperated sigh, but her smile is fond. “She's not going to forget you exist.”

Victor extends a finger, and a tiny hand grasps it. So perfect.  “Winnie, Winnie, Winnie,” he cooes. “I'll miss you so, so much.”

His chest aches. He’s been away from her before — coaching Elizaveta and Yuri at Russian Nationals — back when she’d been just a few weeks old, but Yuuri had stayed home with her then. And he'd stayed home while Yuuri had been away for a few days coaching at U.S. Nationals and then at World’s. But this is the first time neither of them will be here with her overnight.

Thinking rationally, they've left her in Mari’s care for date nights before — just last month they'd gone out to celebrate their seventh anniversary — and she'll likely be comfortable and happy the entire time they're gone. 

But part of his brain can't stop going over and over all the disaster scenarios that could play out. It doesn't seem to matter that for the most extreme ones — earthquake, nuclear meltdown, tsunami — his or Yuuri’s presence wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.

His heart has been pulled out and exposed to the world, and if anything were ever to happen to this one tiny human, it would be utterly shattered.

Mundane things could go wrong, too. Really, even if she's totally fine, her bedtime routine is such a nightmare that Mari might never be willing to watch her again after being subjected to that special sort of torture. 

“You be good for Auntie Mari, okay?” he says, as if a six month old baby has any choice about her behavior. He wants to reach out and wrap her up in another tight hug before it's time to go, but he's already done so several times and Mari is probably tired of passing her back and forth.

He turns his head at the  _ thud thud thud  _ of Yuuri descending the stairs carrying their luggage. 

“I can't believe after all this time you still haven't learned to travel light,” Yuuri says, making a beeline for Mari and Winnie.

Victor takes the bags from him. “You could have called me up to help.” His suggestion is met with a smile and a shrug.

Yuuri reaches out, arms open, and Mari passes Winnie over to him. She babbles happily as he clutches her to his chest. The sight of them together is so sweet he might just die. It doesn’t matter that he’s exposed to it every day, it never gets any less potent.

“Victor, I don't know about this,” Yuuri says, eyes glistening. “Maybe I should tell Phichit it's not going to work this year; she's still too little for us to leave her.”

Victor twists his mouth. They've put in the time to learn Phichit's routine and spent a few hours dusting off a couple of their old ones, too. It would be a shame if that had all been for nothing. But if Yuuri really isn't comfortable, they won't be performing at their best, and that might be disappointing for everyone involved.

He chews his lip. “Are you sure? Phichit—”

“No, Yuuri, come on.” Mari cuts him off, folding her arms. “She’ll be  _ fine,  _ and you know this means a lot to Phichit. Next year might be better timing, but this is the  _ debut  _ of his ice show.”

“But—”

“One of his hamsters had babies right before your wedding, and he still came,” Mari says, raising her eyebrows.

Yuuri scoffs. “That’s not the same, not even a little bit.”

Winnie squirms away from Yuuri to reach for Mari, who gladly takes her back, and that seems to decide it for Yuuri.

He sighs. “You’re right. She’ll be fine.” He looks at Victor. “This will probably be way harder on us than on her.”

“You’ve got to get going if you don’t want to miss the train,” Mari says, in a singsong voice, smiling big at Winnie and tilting her head towards the door. She bounces on her toes gently and Winnie smiles back — her huge, adorable, toothless smile; chubby, round cheeks; the sweetest almond eyes and button nose crinkled up — whole face radiating pure joy.

Always such a delightful, happy baby — until she needs to sleep. Maybe a few days away will be a good thing. Mari is a saint to offer them this opportunity, really.

Several nights alone with Yuuri in a hotel room with no interruptions via crying baby… Sleeping in as late as they wish… Fun performances of their favorite routines…

“—and the fridge is stocked with pre-prepared foods for her to try, since she's started on solids now, and remember that the formula is only good for twenty-four hours once you mix it, and—”

Mari’s eyes are glazing over as Yuuri bombards her with information they've gone over at least a half dozen times. Also, everything she could possibly need to know is compiled and color-coded into one convenient binder for easy consultation.

Victor smiles fondly and puts a hand at the small of Yuuri’s back. “I think Mari’s got this. And we really don't want to miss the train.”

* * *

“Oh my god!” Phichit claps his hands together, visibly jittering with overflowing energy. “I’m so unbelievably psyched that you guys could make it!”

Yuuri plasters on a grin. “Yeah,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m so glad to be here!”

He  _ is  _ happy to see Phichit. But he’s also trying not to get arrested for obscenity, as Victor seems to be on a dedicated mission to make happen.

Victor’s fingers ghost along Yuuri’s inner thigh under the table. He’s barely taken his hands off him for two consecutive seconds since they left the onsen. 

He’d spent the car ride on the way to the train station tracing featherlight shapes into Yuuri’s palm. When they’d sat down on the train, he’d slipped an arm around Yuuri’s waist and set about stroking his thumb against Yuuri’s skin just under the hem of his shirt — right up until they’d reached Fukuoka. In the airport, he’d leaned over and rested his head on Yuuri’s shoulder, occasionally tilting his face to press soft kisses against Yuuri’s neck whenever no one was looking.

Victor had occupied himself for most of the six hour flight whispering in Yuuri’s ear — heat floods through him just recalling — all the things he’d been thinking about doing to Yuuri and having done to him during their upcoming alone time, lips just barely brushing skin with every word.

In the shuttle to the hotel he'd had his thigh pressed firmly alongside Yuuri’s — in the hotel elevator Yuuri had had to remind him, in a strangled voice, that most likely there was a security camera — and then they'd finally gotten to their room.

…With just enough time to drop off their stuff and make it to their dinner arrangements at the hotel restaurant with Phichit and the others.

“We wouldn't miss it for the world,” Victor adds, squeezing just above Yuuri’s knee. Yuuri fights to stop his eyes from fluttering shut in response.

“I know you must be really busy with the new addition — who knew that's what it would take to finally get Yuuri active on insta?” Phichit squeals. “I've never  _ seen  _ such a cutie. Even when she was a newborn! Most newborns are pretty weird-looking.”

“Yeah, she's really—uh—” Yuuri swallows hard as Victor slides his hand higher. “...great,” he finishes, lamely. He'll gush about Winnie endlessly when he's not in such a compromising position.

Victor rests his chin on his hand, propped up by an elbow on the table. “She's such a sweetheart, too, you wouldn't believe. Photos can't do her justice — they're nothing compared to getting one of those smiles in person. You should come visit!”

How is he so fucking  _ composed? _

“It was good to see you at World’s, Yuuri,” Chris says, at his left. “Your Elizaveta is quite the skater.”

Yuri coughs lightly at the other side of the table, and Chris winks at him.

“Yes, yes, you too, Yuri, but we’ve all known that for almost a decade.” Chris’s grin turns sharp. “Besides, she actually managed to keep her quads through to adulthood.”

Yuri puts on a comical exaggeration of his old grouchy teenager face. “Fuck off, geezer!”

Chris laughs, and Yuri breaks character to join in. Even Otabek has a ghost of a grin forming.

Yuuri clears his throat. “Good to see you too, Chris. And I’ll pass that along to her.”

Victor yawns loudly. “The chronic baby-related sleep deprivation has worn me down, I’m afraid. How about we call it an early night, Yuuri? And have some nice, long, uninterrupted…  _ sleep.” _

Phichit makes a shooing gesture. “Yeah, get going, guys! Dinner’s on me!”

Chris bats his eyelashes. “Sleep well, you two,” he says, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's cheesy, but I had to go with "Winnie" because Victor is named Victor and Katsuki also means victory... 😂😅

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [@damaless](http://damaless.tumblr.com) and twitter is [@fandamaless](http://twitter.com/fandamaless), come interact if you like!


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